The End
by Mockingtale Bright
Summary: It only took death to see him again. But when Arwya did, she had changed. She was human, ever-changing. He was an Elf, frozen in time. Sequel to one-shot 'Bitter Partings'. LegolasOC


_**The** **End**  
by Astraea Concord_

_A sequel to 'Bitter Partings'_

* * *

Time has passed. Much time, and with it- so have I.

I have grown old, aged as all mortals must do. And soon I must take the path all mortals must take, the straight path, the last few steps of my journey and then the end will be before me, the path cut-off abruptly and I go I know not where.

Time, I think, has been kind to me, an old woman I am now, frail and wrinkled, my sight dimmed down to blurred figures dappled in shadow. My hands are weak, my sword discarded long ago.

After your sails let down and you left the harbor, after your ship vanished somewhere along the horizon, diminished down the Straight Road, I stood there. Alone. Still and breathless. My heart was lead in my chest, cold. As if the freezing waves of the sea that crashed among the shore before me had rushed into my chest, turning to ice. You were gone. And it was that finality that shook me.

The elves of Mithlond took pity on me. Me with my trembling lips and haunted eyes. And they sent company with me on the road back, sympathetic elves that sang soft melodies to banish away the haunting silence that hung around me. I did not go back to our house in Ithilien. I could not bear it: Waking up everyday to an empty bed. And so, I wandered, to Bree, to Far Harad. I could not bear to enter the Golden Hall of Meduseld- even though the kind King bid me to tarry awhile- nor go to the gleaming white city of Minas Tirith- even when the son of King Elessar's words were pleading.

Too much pain, too many memories. Too many ghosts haunting my footsteps Legolas, your ghosts. And so I wandered.

And now I am old, whiling my days looking out of the window. I lived Legolas, as you said I must. For you. But I could not bear it love, the years were too long, and I lived as a wooden, numb creature. Numb and cold, devoid of emotion. But now here I am, fading.

It is time.

I am relieved I think. Although I would have liked to look at you one last time. Kissed you one last time. Danced with you one last time. But my hope sailed away with you to Valinor, and as did my heart. Death means nothing to me now. It is merely a long-awaited sleep after a long day.

A long, long day.

This tiredness. It's bearing down on me. The darkness. Its eating away at me. I'm going to sleep now, my soul is leaving me, slowly, like a stream newly unfrozen from the first breath of spring.

Then I see him, Death. And I welcome him with open arms

I am falling through a vortex. It is dark, dark all around me and I can feel myself falling. Confusion and terror tears away at my mind. Where am I? I can remember nothing, nothing from before! Where am I? Why am I here? It's so cold, it's freezing! The bitter frost is eating away at my soul!

My fingers brush something smooth and the vortex suddenly disappears. I am standing in a corridor, its walls black and seem to be carved out of shadow and fog. The corridor does not look real, not of time nor reality, and yet when I put my fingers to them I feel smooth stone. The air here is chilly, and my panting breaths condense in front of me into white mists. There are no lights, no glimpse of flickering lamps, but oddly enough I can see and know where to go: Forward.

A large hall opens up before me, its walls just as dark and cold. There are people- thousands perhaps, and they look like ghostly mists- flickering figures shaded grey and lonely.

There is a small flame in the center of the hall, tiny and lonely in a bronze bowl, floating above the masses. And then I know where I am and my heart become frightened. I am in Mandos' Halls. And it is here where I await for the Last Battle. Dagor Dagorath. And to see you, if I am fortunate.

Oh how bitter! So this is where Arwya, daughter of Indria will stay and wait. Among these lost souls for eternity, until eternity ends. I had hoped Death would bring me comfort! An end! But now all I have is time, and memories of you. And they torture me, torment me. I am exhausted, Legolas. I just want to forget.

Darkness is simply an entity here- a spectator. Grey mists whispered into form seem clearer as time whittles away. It is an odd feeling. I know time passes, yet I do not, as if a part of me simply minds the time yet the whole of me knows it does not matter.

I hear stories from these mists… people. These souls which are older than me. I hear their lives, their stories of joy and content. Their regrets and sadness. I hear tales of adventure and legends of old that they know, and suddenly these Halls are more bearable. I am Arwya again. Arwya the child who loved the woods and stories folk had to tell, Arwya the curious who sought after wonder and miracles.

I feel as if I am a child, and suddenly I am just one of the many souls that sit around this small, small flame in a tiny bronze bowl, listening to stories and telling some of my own. As if I am in the woods again, and we are sitting around a huge red fire, telling stories and singing songs. I do not see the Halls or the black walls, I see stories. And the past.

You? You were still on my mind, after life, in death.

After all these years in the place they call paradise. Do you remember me?

Or have you taken up with another?

I wish you happiness Legolas… it would have been better if you had found someone else to love. And forget me.

Because all I wish for is to forget you.

* * *

Time passes outside, I know this and yet it does not matter. One day, as I sit around with these souls, a thought, like a spark occurs to me.

Suddenly I wonder what I am waiting for.

Suddenly I look past the red glow of the fire and the crowd and see the black walls.

Suddenly I feel afraid. Your face fills my mind.

Your face torments me.

I push these thoughts away, and listen to stories instead. There are so many stories, and I sit and be part of the crowd, listening. I am still Arwya, and yet I am different. Listening to these stories and being here has changed me, made me wiser, I think. I now know things, things you could possibly never know. Perhaps it is time, and my bitterness of my later ages. I feel old.

Looking at these walls, I feel haunted.

* * *

It feels as if only mere hours had passed when I feel it. A shaking. A changing. Something tangible in the air and dark. Malice.

The Doors of Night has been opened. The Great Battle has arrived. We are to go to war.

It is odd, how we are suddenly silent and standing, waiting for fate to come upon us. Anticipation fills my heart, and fear. I feel as if I have known this place for my entire life, I do not think I want to leave.

Suddenly I am thrown through the vortex again.

* * *

I am alive. Shaking, but alive.

I was dead.

I struggle to sit up and fall back down again. My hair is damp and the musty smell of leaves and wood fill my nostrils. My eyes snap open. I am in the woods, among the green leaves and earth.

I feel like a bandage, newly ripped off from a wound and thrown to the floor. Grown used I have, to the dark halls and the red glow of the story-telling fire. I feel pain in my chest, as if I miss that place.

Of course I did. Was that not where I belonged? Removed from time, removed from the world. I was forgetting you. I had to let go. I was learning that I had to let you go. I am dead. I belong to the dead, and the dead have time, so much time. It was time for me to forget you. Even though I loved you so.

I hear a snap of a twig and a gasp. I lift my head with difficulty and turn to look.

I see pale hair and a pale face, with the light of the stars upon your brow. You look beautiful, you have never changed.

Legolas.

So it is time at last. We look into each other's eyes for a long, long time. You look startled, carrying a bow and me, naked on the forest floor. You see something in my eyes- And I know, as your grey eyes look into mine. I know.

Death has changed me, Legolas. I have seen Mandos' Halls, and even though I am young again, I have tasted the bitterness of time and age, the bitterness of regret and anger. And you? You have haunted me. Tormented me.

I am Human, you are an Elf, never changing. Always stuck in time, never bearing to look forward, always looking back. I am Human. I adapt. I change. I look into your eyes and I can see it. You know too. Your grey eyes are filled with anguish.

I have tasted Life. I _had_ tasted Life. You? You are still tasting it. You are an Elf, Death is nothing to you. And your face has haunted me.

You turn away, you cannot bear to look anymore. Somewhere in my mind, I know that you and I truly parted at the Havens.

I am not Arwya anymore.

* * *

**Explanation:**_I know some people are going to be confused, so let me explain the story. _

_Arwya died. But before she did, she literally wasted her life trying to forget him, growing bitter and tormenting herself at the same time. When Death came knocking, she welcomed him._

_When she is in Mandos' Halls, she despairs because she can still remember him, and now since she has a lot of time, she is stuck with her memories of him. Trying to forget, she listens to the stories of the other souls that are in the Halls. The Halls are like places where the dead congregate and sit around a 'fire' (The tiny flame in the bronze bowl), sharing stories and passing the time. _

_As she listens, she learns things, and time (both as she was growing old and the time spent in the Halls) has changed her, even though she does not know it, she has sort of grown 'wiser', having 'tasted life', the full extent of it (till death). Occasionally, Legolas haunts her thoughts, but she distracts herself by listening to stories. _

_When she is reborn to fight, Legolas finds her while hunting. He sees 'something in her eyes'. Arwya was a cheerful being full of spirit when she was with him, an innocent child and happy. Time has put bitterness and anger in her eyes ("I feel old"... "I feel haunted"). Arwya has changed. She is in a sense 'older' and more 'tired'_

_Legolas, being an Elf and 'stuck in time' cannot bear to see the person he loves so different. _

_"Somewhere in my mind, I know that you and I truly parted at the Havens."_

_They can no longer be together. Because Legolas- even though she meets him again, has been haunting her for so long, she kinda hates him for it. Legolas on the other hand, knows that she isn't the Arwya he loved._

* * *

**Author's** Note:  
Well, I've finally written it! It's uh, kinda short. Some things are made up, especially about the dead being reborn. See, I haven't read Simarillion, although I've read the Book of Lost Tales I (which was really, really hard for me). I KNOW I promised it would be FLUFF. Yes, I am going to write an alternate one-shot doing just that titled '**See you again****' **

**REVIEWS ARE LOVE!**


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